Mo Jingchun looked at Zhou Yaling, who was already daydreaming about her routine at work and preparing to earn some pocket money, and said bluntly:
"Don't get too excited too soon. The front desk job isn't that easy. The most basic requirement is the ability to read people."
"You have to say the right things to the right people. Sometimes, there are visitors to the company that even your brother wouldn't want to offend."
"In front of uncle and auntie, I'm giving you fair warning. If you don't do your job well and don't learn properly from the front desk sister, I will scold you."
"Don't be fooled by my usual calm demeanor. You know me; when I'm angry, no one can stop me."
Zhou Yaling, pulled out of her daydream by Mo Jingchun, pouted but didn't talk back.
The reason was simple: Mo Jingchun was speaking the plain truth.
In Zhou Yaling's memory from childhood till now, Mo Jingchun had been angry only a handful of times, but each time was especially frightening.
